Bits and Pieces
by deadlynightfall
Summary: Bits and pieces of writing, snippets I suppose. SB/HSR, SB/HSR implied.
1. Chapter 1

I've always wanted to write H*R fanfictions. * Q *

Now I have. Also... I'm unlikely to update here any longer, but I'll probably be finishing my stories over at my livejournal. I'll post the link in my profile.

...

**Soda**

Strong Bad will always remember that this was his favourite soda, as he sits at Club Technochocolate's bar, asking quietly, "One Mountain Dew, Bubs."

**Life**

Regrettably, Strong Bad remembers how he never got to say how much Homestar actually meant to him before life decided that his would end.

**Youth**

He wondered if anyone had stopped to consider just how young Homestar really was, as he looked to the gravestone marked, "A good heart still in his youth."

**Content**

As much as Homestar disliked being punched in the face or smacked with a keyboard, since it was Strong Bad, he understood; and when the quieter, nicer moments came around, he was more content with that fact.

**Change**

Strong Bad wasn't used to change, so the day Homestar tagged along to ruin Marzipan's tofu roast, he had to remind himself not to pummel the star-spangled oaf.

**Dreams**

"I always wanted to own a dough-knots stowh, Stwong Bad, it was my dweam since about two weeks ago!" Homestar quips energetically, as Strong Bad gathers the ingredients in the kitchen.

**Pessimistic**

"Half empty," "Half full!" "Half empty." "Half full, you ignowant pestomist!" Homestar fumbled with the words, earning a small chuckle from the masked man.

**Pirate**

"Blah, Stwong Bad, blah! I'm a cwappy Stuntman! Oh wait. No. I'm a piwate," Homestar claimed, turning a 360 to show the wrestleman his seaworthy wardrobe.

**Novel**

"Not right now, Dorkstar, I'm writing," Strong Bad groaned, the clacking of his keyboard making this statement utterly clear. "Oh. Whatcha writin'?" He asked. His question was left unanswered, however, as Strong Bad left to answer the phone. Scrolling up with the mouse, he scanned the page to see all the sweet things his friend had been writing about him.

**Doom**

"Da Cheat, have you seen Stwo Bwo? I bowwowed his fondue pot and I gotta wetuwn it again," Homestar quipped, having apparently broken into the Strong house again. He heard a faint yelling, and found Strong Bad in the basement, being beaten by The Cheat and Strong Mad with pillows.

**Garden**

"You got the Turducken, Homestar?" "Yessiw, and you got the Suudsu?" "Yeah," "Then off we go to Mawzipan's," The propeller-capped boy said, leading the other away to ruin Marzipan's garden.

**Sadness**

"I'm sowwy, Stwong Bad, I didn't mean to," Homestar began, starting to choke up, glancing at the broken laptop. "It's okay, Homestar, it's just a computer. Just a computer…" Strong Bad replied sadly, reminding himself that at least no one was hurt in the small explosion of the computer.

**Confusion**

"DaAaAaAa, I won the blue ribbon engine!" "Wait, what? Never mind, Homsar, I don't want to know…" Strong Bad said, confused.

**Freedom**

"That's right, maggot! You owe me five bucks, and four and a half pamphlets! You gotta fight for dat fweedom, but wight now you betta' pay up!" Homestar chided, poking Strong Bad with his wooden spoon.

**Inevitable**

"Stwong Bad, how long have we been fwiends?" "I dunno, Dorkstar, but I don't know if "friends" is the right word for that." "I think ouw fwiendship was fate, yanno. Like destiny," Homestar murmured.

**Idle**

"Youw computew must be sleepy, Stwong Bad, the scween turned off." "Yeah, Homestar, I know. It's called standby."

**Vampires**

Covering his face so he wouldn't see the images on the screen, Strong Bad shrieked. "Why does he sparkle? Turn it off, off, OFF! Aghhhh!" "But Stwong Bad, it's a vampiwe movie! I love these! Dewe my favowite." "Except, Homestar, that's a fairy princess. Not a vampire."

**Convention**

"No, I am NOT going to cosplay with you." "But why not? We'we going to an anime convention, we pwactically HAVE TO." Homestar shoved a costume into Strong Bad's hands. "Please? Just this once?" "… fine, I'll do it. Just put away the puppy eyes, and I'll dress up as…" Strong Bad gulped, "… a cat? Is that what this is?" "Yup! Cat people aw' adowable."

**Roleplaying**

"Come onnnnn, just one game of Goblin Keep Siege! Pleeeaaaaase?" The no-armed whitey begged, waving a box around as the pieces inside rattled loudly. "I'll let you have the giant battleaxe and the hot redhead!" "… fine."

**Skull**

The sound of aerosol paint escaping the can was all Strong Bad wanted to hear right now. Anything else would just not do, he knew this, as he stood behind Bubs' Concession Stand, writing grafitti on the brick wall. First, a star, then the On Point Kings symbols, after that, a skull. Simple stuff, this was.

**Pain**

"Ow, ow ow ow ow ow!" Strong Bad winced, pulling away from Homestar. "Stop that, Stwong Bad. I may not know much "bout bindin" injuwies, but keep still." "It's _your_ fault this arm is broken." "No, you wewe the one who jumped off the woof of Bubs' concession stand. No mowe soy sauce fow you."

**Joy**

"Happy Decembuween, Stwong Bad! Hewe, I got you a pwesent!" Homestar chirped happily, handing the masked wrestler a carefully wrapped frame of a picture of the two.

**Time**

For _weeks_ he had waited to see the series finale of _Caleb Rentpayer_, and now it was on. "Homestar Runner, did you shoot Caleb Rentpayer?" "I suwe did!" _**"WHAT?"**_

**Wrath**

A quick smack to the face would teach him not to go in Strong Bad's room. Especially after he had just taken a shower… and left the towel in the bathroom.

**Warmth**

"You know it's too cold outside now to not weaw a shiwt." "So? I'm hot, I'm the coolest guy alive. I don't need no shirt," Strong Bad replied, immediately regretting doing so as he stepped outside.

**Voodoo**

"Make a Strong Sad one! Or Bubs'! Then we could raid his chocolate supply and finally get that Lamborghini hot tub!" Strong Bad cried, as Homestar put together a Bubs'-like voodoo doll.

**Insomnia**

He hadn't been able to sleep since… _that._ He just couldn't. He sat awake on the couch, reruns of Caleb Rentpayer and Half-Hour Death Metal Dungeon Hour on replay. He was lonely without that annoying voice near him. He just… _missed him._

**Solitude**

"Okay, so here's the plan," the masked marauder began; detailing everything they were about to do. "I'll trick Strong Sad, you bag The Cheat and then use him as bait for Strong Mad. We'll drag them off to Bubs', and lock them out of the house, which we will then have all to ourselves," Strong Bad smirked, leaving a bit of room for imagination.


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, so I'm going to post one more chapter, and then all of my later stories will probably be moved to my live journal. I remembered to put the link up for once, so it should be there in all its internet-like glory. But here it is as well. .com/

Shoo, go, go, go~

**Homestarluver201** : This is one of the greatest stories EVAR! :D But uh… how exactly did Homestar die? It's like, 5 in the morning, so I'm a little sleepy… STILL, I LOVE THIS! :D

Oh my, thank you. c: I suppose Homestar could have gotten himself killed from any number of things… It could have been a freak running accident. Or maybe he borrowed Strong Bad's computer and accidentally blew it up, albeit a much bigger explosion than normal. I told him not to use Witch's Brew with that stuff... Or maybe he borrowed Strong Bad's lighter and was lighting things on fiwe… I mean, fire.

…

**Zombies**

"You remember that one zombiefied sheep from Halloween a couple years back?" Strong Bad began, as the pair walked around Free Country as the sun set. "Yeah, the gween gobalin got him!" "Err… yeah. Well, dude, he had the coolest name ever! Too bad the King of Town stole our pickled monkey fingers, I totally wanted a zombie slave."

**Heaven**

He'd promised Homestar he'd set the new main page up right away, but the fact that he had to fall through the clouds screaming "Holy crap!" just didn't appeal to him… not at all.

**Evil**

"No, I'm answering an email, dork. Go away." "Hmph, well! We'll see what my Mountain Dew has to say about that!" Homestar replied, setting a giant bottle of Mount-ain Dew on the computer table, a bit forcefully. "Don't you dare. I'll give you worse wedgies than I give to Strong Sad." A whiny voice added, "I can't feel my legs!"

**Weary**

"Aftew that incident at the Steep Deep, and then Mawzipan's house, I'm exhausted!" Homestar cried, flopping onto Strong Bad's couch before he could protest. "Ah - fine. But we're watching Half-Hour Death Metal Dungeon Hour," He said, to find that Homestar was fast asleep.

**Candyland**

"Except this is pwactically the best game evew!" Homestar cried. "No, I'm not going to play that game with you." "But! I'll let you go fiwst! I'll let you be the wed one!" "… I have a better idea." Strong Bad murmured, deciding to show the runner something much, much sweeter.

**Robot**

Strong Bad wasn't home right now – he had left the house, off to the club. "Do ya got any thwees?" "Now spell: 'Carp for brains'."

**Old School**

"Thanks, Stwong Bad!" "Ahaha," Strong Bad chuckled, thumbing through the wad of cash he had conned from Homestar for a ten-year-old Walkman.

**Puppets**

"Thewe needs to be a pile hewe!" "No, Homestar. Let's not start that again," Too late, though, Homestar had already begun to pile up junk in the middle of Free Country, to start his own pile.

**Flight**

"What do you mean you've never been on a plane before? What do you mean you're AFRAID of them? Couldn't you have told me BEFORE we got ON THE _PLANE?_" Strong Bad started, obviously frustrated. "I'm sowwy, Stwong Bad, I fowgot." The wrestleman sighed. "… fine. Go to the bathroom, I'll be there in a minute. I'll help you calm down," came a seductive purr, although calming down was the exact opposite of what they were going to do.

**Movie**

"_Nobody do anything… dangeresque!"_ The loud action noises of the movie were unheard by the two bodies writhing together on the couch, busy with something much more… dangeresque.

**What If…**

"But what if Ali and Ali's sister actually wrote back, cawp fow bwains?" "Homestar, don't call me carp for brains. I've got a mind to knock a tooth out with a dictionary." "Oh! That weminds me. I wead the BEST choose-youw-own-adventuwe stowy the othew day…"

**Batman**

"No, Dorkstar, you're supposed to be ROBIN, not BATMAN, _ROBIN._" "No, you'we the boy blundew. I'm the wunnew hewe." "… whatever. I'll just be the Joker, then…"

**O RLY?**

"Stwong Bad, I don't like being stuck in youw computew box." "Well, you dummy, you got yourself stuck in there, deal with it." "Dang! I thought this was the powtal to the melonade stowe." "… You are sorely mistaken." "Ohoho, oh weally?"

**Ploy**

"Homestar, I brought you something!" Strong Bad called, waving about a bowl of sour cream and The Cheat hair. "This'll teach him to pour Mountain Dew on my computer…"

**Uh Oh…**

"Uh oh." Homestar stuttered, about to run, but was a bit late doing so. He was tackled to the floor, and didn't say another word. His lips were attacked by another, smooth skin against rougher, more subtle flesh, small cries made by both parties. This was a happiness they rarely indulged in, but it was by far the sweetest.

**Duel**

"Are you asking for a CHALLENGEEEEEEEE?" "No, Stinkoman," 1-Up laughed, "I came to give you some pudding I bought, but I'm hungry and want to eat it…" "I challenge you to a duel! Winner gets the pudding!"

**Sound Effect**

"What was that?" "A badly recorded sound effect that's supposed to be a bush rustling. Stop worrying so much…" Strong Bad replied, still entwined in Homestar's arms, apparently having decided that being the little spoon wasn't so bad.

**Caption**

"Stwong Bad, I think my website keeps bweaking," Homestar said, worriedly. "No, Dumbstar." "Then why's thewe text undew this pictuwe? I didn't put that thewe." "No, it's not broken. It's called a caption. Didn't you go to school?"

**Photo**

"I have a picture! You better give me back my Tai Chi candles now, or I'll give this to Bubs and tell him to show it to everyone!" "You're an idiot, Strong Sad, gimme that picture!" Strong Bad replied, trying fruitlessly to reach the photograph of him and Homestar kissing. "Just… give… it!" Strong Bad managed to grab the picture, punching his little brother in the belly and running off.

**Pants**

"You actually wear pants." "Well, I do, but you took them off." "Yeah, I know, actually. I was kind of there," Strong Bad replied, laying next to Homestar, shirtless and pantless.

**Red**

"Come onnnnnn, please! I just wanna see youw face once!" Homestar pleaded, following Strong Bad around his house like a puppy. "No, Homestar." "But!" "Fine, just shut up already." The masked man groaned, taking Homestar to his room and shutting the door. He slowly untied the laces of his mask, and the red leather fell to the floor, revealing something rather beautiful. Still Strong Bad, he was, vibrant emerald eyes staring back at Homestar, but ruby red hair fell just short of his shoulders. "Aw, you'we so cute, Stinkoman!" This made the red-head blush. "No, it's Strong Bad. Can I put my mask back on?" "No! Nevew!"

...

Off to live journal you go! Shoo!


	3. Chapter 3

ksdfisydfls why is it that all the pairings I WANT to draw, I can't? sffdsfdfsd

Some more Homstar Runner, I suppose. Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

…

**Fiesta**

"Stwong Bad, how do you like youw pawty?" "Erm, Homestar, I dunno if you could call this a party…" Strong Bad murmured, looking about the almost empty basement. The couch had been moved against the wall, a table in the middle of the room and littered with bags of chippity chunks and soda. Homestar was the only one in the room with him. The only one who either remembered, or really cared. "But thanks anyway."

**Percent**

Strong Bad wondered if the statistics Homestar left on his desk were real. After all, one was titled, 'People Cheated Out of Lamborghini Hot Tubs', and another, 'Blubb-O's Sales Records'. These were just weird. They weren't even in this department!

**Soap Opera**

"Hey Stwong Bad, I heawd youw TV was on and I was gonna tuwn it off!" Homestar stopped short, however, when he heard a mumbling noise. Edging closer into the basement, he heard it again, and he walked up behind the couch. There was the sleeping form of Strong Bad, curled up on the orange leather couch, the remote on the floor. Slowly taking the remote, Homestar turned the television off, without another word about Caleb Rentpayer, and put the remote down. He wasn't sure what to do afterwards, so he watched the masked man for a minute or so, deciding maybe it would be best if he left. He stopped himself, however, long enough to give a tender kiss to the sleeping man's forehead.

**Underwear**

"Strong Sad, sorry, man, but I sold your lucky drawers - I mean, the Cheat sold your lucky drawers." "Aw, those were my favorite..." Strong Sad's familiar whine was heard down the hall. "Whatever. I'm leaving, don't make me lock you in the bathroom."

**Stress**

"Mawzipan, have you seen Stwong Bad? Ever since his computew box bwoke fow the millionth time, I haven't seen him awound." "And you think I know or care why, exactly? Go find out for yourself," Marzipan replied, waving Homestar away with her not-hands-havery. "Fine, I will!" He replied, making a dash for the door of Marzipan's house.

**Froof**

For some reason, Homestar couldn't decide what, Marzipan thought it was a good idea to break up with him. For probably… the twentieth time, something like that. To rub it in his face, she was going on a date – wearing a sparkly pink backless dress. He wouldn't tell her this, but pink… it wasn't really her color.

**Mutation**

"Sure Da Hudge is a doppelganger, but seriously, there ain't no way I would have turned out like that without some sort of - " "DNA evidence?" Homestar suggested. "For the last time! I don't got no freakin' D-N-A evidence!" Strong Bad cried, exasperated.

**Skeleton**

"Hey Wrestleman, what awe you dwessed as this Halloween?" "Take a look at my costume and see for yourself!" Homestar paused, his eyes raking over Strong Bad's form, taking in the little details that made his costume. "A dead guy?" This made the masked man sigh. "No. A skeleton! Skeleton!"

**Rock**

"Yo Bubs, I need a rock." "What kind, Strong Bad?" "The window-breakin' kind. Don't ask anymore questions." "Okay, well, we got some new ones out back that showed up last night, you wanna take a look at those?" "Yeah, sure, but I need it quick, I have some… er… appointments. Of the business kind." "On a Friday afternoon?" "Yeah! Some stuff I gotta get done before tomorrow is all." He didn't mention that he was really going to break into the King of Town's castle and steal some chips and soda.

**Lies**

"Mawzipan, I'm going out for a wun, befowe pwactice in a few days. I'll be back latew tonight, maybe." "Alright, Homestar, if you need me, I'll be protesting at Blubb-O's. Those poor whales being used as a fast food icon…" "Whatevew, bye!" He sprinted to Strong Bad's house, making sure to take the back way.

**Ninja**

Thankfully, no one had seen him, and he managed to get into the basement. Strong Bad was sitting on the couch, drawing some Teen Girl Squad pictures. Quietly walking up behind the man, he cried, "Boo!" This made the masked man jump off the couch. "Dumbstar, I told you not to do that!"

**Message**

Messages? What were those? Were they important? Strong Bad wasn't sure, nor did he care. Especially with those lips to stare at… hrjibrr no, he had emails to check. What even was he thinking anyway? But those lips… mm, soft and warm… no, not even, never! _Stop that, Strong Bad, seriously. Get to work. Just kick them out._ "Get out of my house," He paused, "Homestar."

**Bugs**

After the time Homestar had run around shrieking about having swallowed a bug, Strong Bad made it a point to keep a frying pan on hand at all times. It was useful, for holding things, hitting people, cooking with… though he didn't really engage in the last one. He just kept the pan around as an excuse to hit Homestar.

**Effort**

Effort. This was something that Strong Bad never gave. Ever. But this was the one exception, with the white skinned boy beneath him, breaths loud and exciting, and kisses hungry but tender and soft, that he decided, yes, he'd make the effort.

**Bandaid**

"That has to be the third or fourth time you've come homew with bloody scratches, Homestar! What _have_ you been doing?" Blushing with embarrassment as he recalled _exactly_, with plenty of detail, what he had been doing. "Oh, nothing. I keep twipping and falling into this pwickly thown bush by Bub's. I always wun past it when I exewcise," when in reality, the scratches were from something… _much _more fun.

**Phone**

"Strong Sad, unplug the phone!" Strong Bad called, ignoring the constant ringing of the annoying orange plastic phone. Homestar just wouldn't stop calling him! It was frustrating, he would pick up the phone and answer, and it would hang up. This would result in several failed attempts for a phone conversation. Why, he wondered though, if he wanted to talk so badly, didn't he just come waltzing into his house again? Certainly never stopped him before.

**Coffee**

"Homestar, this has got to be like… my fiftieth coffee run. Why am I the only one doing the statistics, AND launching the new hardware? Where the crap is everyone else?" Shirted Strong Bad asked, a stained mug in his hand as he approached the runner. "They all called in sick, pwolly because they knew that's what we wewe doing today." "Oh, man. Well… you wanna take a break?" Strong Bad asked, glancing at the supply closet towards the back of the building.

**Imaginary**

"Scotty TeeTee wasn't real, you idiot!" Strong Bad called, as Strong Bad "talked" with his only friend. "Stupid medication,"

**Fly Me To the Moon**

Strong Bad had been in the soy sauce lately, plain and simple. There was proof of this, actually, in the fact that he was on the roof of Bub's, squawking drunkenly about flying to the moon.

**Discovery**

"There's something in Strongbadia!" Strong Bad cried, surveying his camera. Running down to the fence, he noticed that there was a little box sitting alone on the ground. Picking it up and carefully opening it, he saw a small box of chocolates and a six-pack of cold ones. What a cool present, he decided. Too bad there wasn't a – wait, no, there was. Pulling the note out of the box, he read it. It said, _Strong Bad, sorry I missed your birthday. – Secret Admirer_

**What?**

" – And then he fell off his bike, wight as it skidded off a cliff that was wight ovew the sea! It was scawy, actually," Homestar said. "Wait, what?" Strong Bad murmured, confused.


	4. Chapter 4

**What?**

Strong Bad faltered. Seemed like Homestar had been paying attention after all. "And then you said, 'and we can have the whole place to ourselves,' what do you mean? Are you finally gonna let me play youw Trogdow games?" Well, maybe not. "Sure, Dumbstar, whatever, since you helped me out and all, I guess I owe ya."

**Adhesive**

"I thought I _told_ you, Homestar, you CAN'T fix a computer with duct tape!" Frowning, the whitey replied, stuttering, "I'm sowwy, Stwong Bad, I was just twying to help." He then dashed out of the room, making Strong Bad feel a little bad, though he'd never own up to it. Sighing, he went to the kitchen and grabbed a pudding pop, heading down to the basement.

**Underworld**

Rubbing his temples with a sigh, Strong Bad decided that even being around Homestar was better than that weird dream he had last night. Oh man, being in Hell would suck so badly - there weren't any hot chicks in the underworld.

**Kawaii Desu**

"1-Up, you're a weeaboo, ahaha," Stinkoman screeches, as the futuristic looking boy recites a list he compiled containing various words in Japanese. Ah well, Stinkoman didn't have to know they were words like love, happy, and forever, now did he?

**Mecha**

"Look at this awesome Grape-Nuts Strong Bad, though! It's so much like me, I feel like I'm looking in a mirror!" 'I look so good,' The Grape-Nuts bot added. "See what I mean?"

**Random**

"And then outta nowhewe, blam! Pow!" Homestar cried, mimicking the movements he described as best as one could with no arms. "It was gweat, you just _had_ to be thewe."

**Videogame**

"Homestar, I told you – I'm player one. I have to be, I know how to work the game," Strong Bad reminded the other, gently taking the controller and handing him the other. "But you can be red, if it makes you feel better."

**Crisis**

"Mawzipan bwoke up with me again," Homestar murmured sullenly, "for good, she said. End of the line, no mowe second chances." Strong Bad sighed; he knew what was coming next. "Can I stay hewe tonight? She had my house key, and didn't give it back." Letting the pale-skinned athlete inside silently, he nodded. "I'll get the pudding pops."

**Insanity**

"Marzipan's gone crazy, dude, she's not gonna give you back any of your stuff." "Cwazy? All I did was tell hew I was done with hew and that we wewe ovew…" "Yeah, and now she's batshit crazy, because you grew a backbone." There was an awkward pause. "… I used to not have a spine?"

**Ice**

"Hey Stwong Bad, it's snowing!" Homestar called from outside the locked, foggy window. Strong Bad looked up, and Homestar, bundled in his scarf and hat, added, "but I don't think snow is supposed to huwt when it falls on you." Shaking his head, Strong Bad sighed. "That's because that's not snow falling on your head, dork. It's hail. Get inside before you get more brain damaged than you already are."

**Working Hard**

Working hard, what was that? Strong Bad didn't have to work hard to attract the ladies; everyone knew _that_. Strong Bad hadn't ever actually had to work at anything before, he was pretty much good at everything – but looking down at the writhing mass of pale flesh groaning lustfully beneath him, he realised, he'd have to try much harder.

**Hardly Working**

"Hah, hahn, H-Homestar, how can you run for so long…?" Strong Bad panted, bending over to catch his breath. Homestar slowed to a stop, and looked back. "It's not my fault you can't wun, Stwo Bwo~"

**Sandwich**

Homestar wasn't allowed to have meat on his sandwiches. Not while he was dating Marzipan. But while he was at Strong Bad's house, even though he swore not to say a word about it, the green-eyed boy would make him the best sandwiches he could have ever eaten.

**Clone**

"Yeah, like I said, this Grape-Nuts robot of me is so on point that it's like a clone, dude!" Strong Bad said excitedly, clutching the cereal box as closely as he could while still trying to look somewhat dignified.

**Clumsy**

If anyone was clumsy, it was definitely Homestar, Strong Bad concluded, noticing the splintered pieces of wood scattered about from the remains of the coffee table. It was totally an accident; that much he knew, but what had even happened? "I tripped," Homestar answered quietly, "Sowwy."

**Keyboard**

His keyboard was dying, how that was even possible, he wasn't sure, but it was happening. He couldn't exactly figure out how to solve this problem, he had always thought keyboards never died, had an endless power supply. Guess not. So what now, did they take batteries? It's not like Strong Bad could search it up, he couldn't type.

**Hope**

"Maybe," Homestar thought, "maybe soon he won't hurt anymore. Maybe soon he'll forgive me. Maybe soon he'll want me back again. I hope."

**Song**

A simple song, with simple words and a simple name written by a simple band, with such a powerful meaning, so much emotion some people couldn't handle it. They had a song like that, that they listened to together, that brought them closer together and dried any tears, quieted any screams, and calmed any fears. This song reminded them that they had something special – each other.

**Surprise**

Why was there a giant cake in the basement? It seemed odd – red with white stars, and very smooth and elegant looking. Taking a few cautious steps, Strong Bad wondered, _who in the hell would give him a cake?_ The only possible explanation was that is was like, poisoned, or had a bomb in it. But no, he realised, as a quiet Homestar burst from behind the cake, holding a present, he wasn't that hated after all.

**Cursed**

Cursed painting, the Horrible Painting, gave anyone and everyone the jibblie jibblies. Feared by all, this painting, hidden in the depths of Strong Mad's room, would normally be enough to give Strong Bad the jibblies for days. However, when those pale fingers interlaced with his, he finally was able to get rid of that painting, throwing it in the dumpster, never to be seen again.

**Awesomeness**

"Cupcakes awe just awesome, Stwong Bad, you know that, wight?" Homestar quipped, and Strong Bad nodded. "They're pretty cool sometimes, yeah." Especially these cupcakes, fresh from the oven, homemade by the wrestler himself, he had to admit, were going to be pretty awesome. "'Kay, Homestar, you can put the coloring in the frosting, and then the sprinkles on top, okay?" After receiving a nod in reply, the two bowls of red and pale blue frosting were piped onto the cupcakes, and topped with silver star-shaped sprinkles. "… yeah, pwetty awesome."

**Flower**

Strong Bad wasn't big on flowers. No way, not in the very least, did he like them. Though he had to admit, the simple little daisy he had found on his doorstep this morning, attached to a handwritten note, was a bit heart-warming.


	5. Chapter 5

**Internet**

"Well, after I connect these cables," Strong Bad demonstrates, "then we'll have an internet connection." "And then we can download new games to play?" Homestar asked excitedly, as Strong Bad nodded with the slightest of smiles.

**Five**

"Five papew planes, five daisy chains, five words fow you.," Homestar sang quietly, running a "hand" through his love's thick blue hair, who was fast asleep against his chest. "I will love you fowevew."

**Orange**

"Owange isn't a bad colouw. It's not weally a good colouw fow you, I like wed and black bettew," Homestar observes, his eyes raking the lithe form of Strongbad, who was trying on a loose-fitting, pumpkin orange button-down shirt. Hardly flattering. "Do they have it in black?"

**Love**

"Stwong bad…?" He asked cautiously, peeking around the corner into their shared bedroom. "Yeah?" the blue-haired male inquired, turning a bit. Homestar stepped tentatively into the room, settling onto the bed and looking meekly at him. "I have a question," he supplies, pausing thoughtfully. "What is love?" While taken with surprise, Strong Bad blushes faintly, getting up from the computer chair and sitting softly next to him. Hands entwined, he smiles a bit, and says, "This is."

**Annoyance**

While yes, Homestar did annoy him sometimes, Strong Bad had to admit. Nobody annoyed him quite like Homestar – and he wouldn't have it any other way.

**Misunderstand**

"You said you didn't want to see me!" He cries, both furious and heartbroken, his voice choked with tears. "No, stupid, no," emerald eyes flash with desperation. "I was planning a surprise for you. I didn't want you to see." He tugged at a pale hand, pulling him into the basement, where a cozy blanket fort, complete with munchies and videogames, was in progress.

**Fantasia**

"Oh. It was just this pawk I had a dweam about once. Like, Fanta-soda. Or somethin'." Strong Bad laughs, "You mean Fantasia?" "Oh! Yeah!"

**Puppy**

"We can't have a puppy, Homestar." Strong Bad starts, and is confronted with a wailing noise from his paler counterpart. "But puppiesssss, they'we so cute!" Strong Bad waved his hand dismissively – he was more concerned with the fact that the dog would get in the way of… other things.

**Lost**

"So like, and then, they got lost!" Homestar cried, arms flailing for emphasis, "and then there was mowe to the stowy, but I fowgot. I think." "Hah, okay. Maybe we can make up more, tomorrow morning," Strong Bad murmurs, fingers grazing underneath the red fabric of the others' shirt.

**Pie**

It wasn't as if they had anything else to do. "Come on, wash your hands, I'll get the apples." The blue-haired boy murmured, pulling a bag of apples from the refrigerator, washing both them and his hands. "Now, first, we make the crust, okay?" He guides pale hands through the steps, and then cuts the apples himself, for the others' safety. "Tch, ow!" He cries softly, rinsing his hand under water. Before he can dry his cut hand, however, Homestar kisses the wound. Strong Bad changes his mind – he does like making pie after all.

**Fate**

There wasn't really any denying it at this point, he decided. His fingers had never fit between anyone else's so perfectly. He'd never felt so at home curled up next to anyone else. He'd never been so comforted by familiar lips, soft and inviting. And he'd never been so content with anyone else in his arms, and he'd come to the final conclusion. This was fate, there was no other explanation. This was love.

**Death**

Opening the front door of their shared apartment, Homestar half expected to find his lover here, ready to greet him, but he was not. After setting down his equipment in the cupboard next to the door, he wandered around the unsettlingly quiet dwelling. Strong Bad was nowhere to be found, it seemed. Maybe he was back at the hospital, getting medicine or something. That would make sense, after all, because he'd been so ill as of late. Homestar decided to distract himself for a bit, watching television, and after losing track of time, he heard a quiet knock at the door.

After turning off the television, he got up and answered it. A familiar blonde in purple dress was standing there, looking rather… well, sad. The two had a somewhat normal, albeit strained friendship, after Homestar had told her he was in love with Strong Bad. "Uh… Mawzipan, what'we you doing hewe?" Marzipan sniffled a bit, wiping her eyes. "Well, Homestar," she started, "Strong Bad had to be hospitalised again this morning. And…" Homestar stopped, blinking slowly. No. This wasn't what he thought it was. She began to cry, "He didn't make it. I'm sorry." Handing him a sealed envelope, she stuttered, "I'm so sorry." And left.

In a daze, Homestar made his way to the couch, meaning to sit on it, only to miscalculate the distance and land heavily on the floor. No, he couldn't be gone – he hadn't been _that_ sick, had he? No, not his Strong Bad. No, this was wrong, this was a bad dream. He was still asleep, and he'd wake up soon, go to work, and come back to an alive and well, blue-haired, emerald-eyed Strong Bad.

Fumbling to open the letter, he pulled the paper from inside the envelope, reading the carefully hand-written message. He recognised the handwriting at once. Strong Bad's.

_Homestar,_

_If you're reading this, Marzipan's already told you. I would have called when I got here, but I could barely speak. I didn't want to worry you, either, just in case it wasn't anything serious. Turns out, I was wrong. But anyway. Do you remember what I'd said the other day? We were talking about important words, and vows, and stuff like that. I wanted to tell you this then, but I wasn't ready. I'm not really ready now, but it's now or never – literally. I wanted to ask you to somewhat… marry me. I suppose. I just wanted to tell you, and to thank you… for everything. I don't think I've loved anyone like I have you, even though we weren't exactly on friendly terms at the beginning, but I've grown up since then. We both have. And I wouldn't change a thing. I got to grow up, and see the world, and spend every precious moment with you, and that was always more than enough, more than I deserved, more than I could ever have asked for in a life. I may not have been the best person for you to spend your time with, but I hope it was what you wanted. _

_Homestar, I just want you to be happy, so please do me a favour. Don't mope around once you're finished reading this. Don't give up on living, don't do anything stupid. Stick around, for me. So I can watch you. I'll always be with you; I hope you know that, even if you may not see me for a while. I will never leave you lost and confused, and when you are, remember me. I hope that's enough – you were - are - the best thing that has ever happened to me. Don't forget that. If it weren't ending this way, I'd have asked you to stay with me forever. And I think maybe… you would have said yes._

_ Till death do us part (this sounds awful, really), so, with more love than you could fathom,_

_ Strong Bad_

**Introduction**

"This is supposed to be like, a manual introducing you to your new laptop. Or something," Strong Bad hands Homestar a thin, flimsy pad of paper, "I guess." Taking the box the laptop was in, he opened it, plugging it in and turning it on. "So," he begins, "it's not hard to use, and I shouldn't have to explain much, since you've had a laptop before." Homestar didn't need any explanation, or demonstration – but he kept quiet. He just liked to hear Strong Bad talk.

**Light**

"It's too bwight outside, Stwong Bad," he mutters sleepily, crawling into bed next to the tan, shirtless boy. "Too light. I like it bettew in hewe." His hands wrap around the somewhat muscular form of Strong Bad, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. "Sleep, Homestar…" Strong Bad grumbles, tangling their fingers together, "and stop talking, the quiet is nice sometimes."

**Dark**

It was dark now, and in a tangled mess of limbs and blankets, the warmth of each other hanging in the air. Soft kisses, hungry but tender, were exchanged, touches and quiet moans breaking the silence of the night. If there was a better way to spend the evening, there wasn't any space in Strong Bad's brain to think of what. This was bliss.

**Seeking Solace**

It'd been a while since they'd talked… months, actually. And, it was pouring rain outside – Strong Bad's least favourite weather. His thoughts drifted back to that day. It'd been somewhat of a fight, and Homestar had left. It wasn't as if Strong Bad didn't know where he was – he was at his own home, but the fact that Homestar wasn't with him left a hollow ache in his heart. How stupid, though, he knew it was his fault. He just hadn't swallowed his pride and gone to apologise. But, today, he realised he couldn't take the loneliness anymore.

He got himself to knock at the door. At this point, he was drenched. He couldn't even remember what the fight was about, or how to say sorry, or what he would actually do if Homestar answered the door. He waited, and knocked again. He wasn't aware of how long he'd been standing there anymore. Maybe an hour. He knocked one last time, about to turn and leave, when the door creaked open. Blinking slowly, in disbelief, the paler of the two observed, though somewhat surprised, "Stwong Bad,"

"I'm sorry," came a choked apology, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I miss you." The blue-haired boy paused again, noticing he wasn't even wearing a coat, "I'm sorry. Please, come back."


End file.
